TheYellowDart
03-14-2009, 12:17 PM
Sorry this one took so long.. The conclusion to this story may seem brutal to some, and some scenes may be graphic, so don't say I didn't warn you.
Now, without further ado, I present the last chapter in the Rachel's New Slave series.
Part 4--
The Slave shuddered, not because of the cold, the how was actually quite warm, but because the fact that he was about to die finally hit him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was chained to the floor of Rachel's bedroom, all he could do was to wait for her to finish her shower. There was no one around to hear his shout, his family would not come looking for him, he had no friends, and everyone he knew despised him.
Another chill crawled down his spine as he heard the water stop in the bathroom; Rachel was done with her shower. In a few minutes, she would return and finish him off for good. He knew that before the night ended, he would be nothing more than a beaten, bruised, and bloodied corpse.
All too soon, Rachel entered the room. She wore a red blouse with and knee-length black skirt. Her feet were bare, her toes painted a deep blood-red.
She walked over and stood over him, with one foot on each side of his body. She stood and stared down at him in silence; nothing needed to be said, they both knew what was about to happen. Finally, she stepped with one foot and swung the other one over and placed it on his face. Next, she started swaying forward and backward, transferring her weight from one foot to the other. After two days on trampling, the Slave's chest was incredibly sore and it seemed to burn every time she moved her weight onto it. Rachel knew this; Cody was not her first slave, she had killed three more before him, all of them were losers, people nobody cared about, just like Cody. To Rachel, trampling was an art, and she knew exactly how much it took to kill someone with her own weight, and how to make herself feel heavier than she really was.
Finally, she moved her foot so that it was next to the other one, creating a V-patter with her feet. This placed her heels right up next to each other, greatly increasing the pressure on his sore chest.
He could not gather any breath, and he felt like Rachel was about to go through him. As his breath continued to vanish, his head started pounding, and sharp throb developed in his neck. However, Rachel did nothing. She just stared down at him with a merciless, emotionless expression on her face. She watched as his face turned red, then purple. She watched as his eyes began to glaze over and close. She walked back onto his legs, allowing fresh air to enter his lungs. She only waited a few seconds, long enough for the Slave to gather a little breath, before she continued the brutal torture.
She walked back up to his chest, stood there for a second, then started viciously jumping up and down as hard and as high as she could. After about 5 minutes, she heard a rib crack and felt part of his chest give away. He screamed his most blood-curling scream yet. However, the rib did not seem to have punctured any organs, so he would live—for now.
Next, she stepped onto his face and started stomping rapidly in place, quickly breaking his nose. She felt warm blood gush beneath her feet. He could not breathe, a sharp pain seared through his chest, and his nose was broken; he hoped it would all end quickly. However, she only moved back onto his chest, causing more pain, and another rib to break. Once again, she just stood there, listening to his dying screams. Finally, she decided it was time.
She stepped up onto his throat with one foot, and watched for about a minute as the Slave struggled for air. His last image was that of Rachel standing dominantly on his neck, staring down at him, not caring that she was killing him. Her beautiful foot descended lightly on his face blocking out all light, until, finally, his pain ceased. Forever.
Now, without further ado, I present the last chapter in the Rachel's New Slave series.
Part 4--
The Slave shuddered, not because of the cold, the how was actually quite warm, but because the fact that he was about to die finally hit him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was chained to the floor of Rachel's bedroom, all he could do was to wait for her to finish her shower. There was no one around to hear his shout, his family would not come looking for him, he had no friends, and everyone he knew despised him.
Another chill crawled down his spine as he heard the water stop in the bathroom; Rachel was done with her shower. In a few minutes, she would return and finish him off for good. He knew that before the night ended, he would be nothing more than a beaten, bruised, and bloodied corpse.
All too soon, Rachel entered the room. She wore a red blouse with and knee-length black skirt. Her feet were bare, her toes painted a deep blood-red.
She walked over and stood over him, with one foot on each side of his body. She stood and stared down at him in silence; nothing needed to be said, they both knew what was about to happen. Finally, she stepped with one foot and swung the other one over and placed it on his face. Next, she started swaying forward and backward, transferring her weight from one foot to the other. After two days on trampling, the Slave's chest was incredibly sore and it seemed to burn every time she moved her weight onto it. Rachel knew this; Cody was not her first slave, she had killed three more before him, all of them were losers, people nobody cared about, just like Cody. To Rachel, trampling was an art, and she knew exactly how much it took to kill someone with her own weight, and how to make herself feel heavier than she really was.
Finally, she moved her foot so that it was next to the other one, creating a V-patter with her feet. This placed her heels right up next to each other, greatly increasing the pressure on his sore chest.
He could not gather any breath, and he felt like Rachel was about to go through him. As his breath continued to vanish, his head started pounding, and sharp throb developed in his neck. However, Rachel did nothing. She just stared down at him with a merciless, emotionless expression on her face. She watched as his face turned red, then purple. She watched as his eyes began to glaze over and close. She walked back onto his legs, allowing fresh air to enter his lungs. She only waited a few seconds, long enough for the Slave to gather a little breath, before she continued the brutal torture.
She walked back up to his chest, stood there for a second, then started viciously jumping up and down as hard and as high as she could. After about 5 minutes, she heard a rib crack and felt part of his chest give away. He screamed his most blood-curling scream yet. However, the rib did not seem to have punctured any organs, so he would live—for now.
Next, she stepped onto his face and started stomping rapidly in place, quickly breaking his nose. She felt warm blood gush beneath her feet. He could not breathe, a sharp pain seared through his chest, and his nose was broken; he hoped it would all end quickly. However, she only moved back onto his chest, causing more pain, and another rib to break. Once again, she just stood there, listening to his dying screams. Finally, she decided it was time.
She stepped up onto his throat with one foot, and watched for about a minute as the Slave struggled for air. His last image was that of Rachel standing dominantly on his neck, staring down at him, not caring that she was killing him. Her beautiful foot descended lightly on his face blocking out all light, until, finally, his pain ceased. Forever.